


One and One-Forth Cups of Flour, One and One-Half Cups of Milk

by SugarMagic



Category: Hanna Is Not A Boy's Name
Genre: Breakfast, M/M, Pre-Slash, now with art!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 08:27:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4822142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugarMagic/pseuds/SugarMagic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing like the taste of hotcakes in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One and One-Forth Cups of Flour, One and One-Half Cups of Milk

**Author's Note:**

> This is an unorphaned old fic. I hope you enjoy.

Hanna wakes up to the sound of sizzling, and at first he thinks he forgot to wash a rune off and he has lit something on fire in his sleep again. But then he notices that the room doesn't smell like burning carpet or melting plastic, and instead, it smells like food.

He rolls over towards his kitchenette, which he hasn't really used to cook since… ever. When he opens his eyes, he sees Konnor dipping a measuring cup he didn't know he had into a bowl of batter.

"Good morning," Terence greets, and Hanna palms for his glasses, because no way his undead roommate is cooking.

"Morning," he calls back, fixing his glasses to his face. And indeed, Alfonso is cooking, because he just poured that measuring cup onto one of his extra-cheap frying pans. The sizzling returns with a vengeance, louder than before, and Hanna can smell the smell of the breakfast of champions.

"Are those – Are those pancakes?" Hanna is up like a shot when the reality of the situation hits him, and if he were tall enough he'd be watching over Dedrick's shoulder. Instead, he's kinda to the side, watching as the spatula dislodges a pancake from the bottom of the pan.

"Mm," Sage hums, and then flicks his wrist. The pancake flips through the air before landing safely back in the pan, the wet gooey uncooked side face down on the hot teflon.

"Gnee!" Hanna squeals. "That's AMAZING! Did you used to be a chef or something, Damon?" Hanna doesn't realize he's moving to cling both hands to Irvin's arm in his enthusiasm until it's too late, but it's Hanna so it doesn't feel awkward or out-of-character or too personal or intimate.

"I don't know," is of course the dead guy's answer, but he's smiling at Hanna just a little bit.

"This is so sweet. I haven't had someone cook for me since I was like, ten. This is- GNEE!" Hanna squeals again and bounces a little, grinning, and Kirk smiles again, just as subte and just as sincere.

When the pancakes are ready, Hanna shuffles around to lay out silverware and plates, because no, really, his roommate has done waaay more than enough. He makes a plate for Shelton because it feels rude not to, and he has to knock a bunch of magazines onto the floor to make room for them at the table.

Just as Hanna is about to put his knife to the stack of three pancakes, Felton says suddenly says "Wait." Hanna drops his utensils obediently and after rummaging through the fridge, his roommate returns. He leans over Hanna, making their bodies brush lightly, and places a single raspberry on top on the stack. He walks back to his half of the table and for a second, Hanna kinda feels like he's in love.

"We need to buy fruit," Boston says, and Hanna nods vigorously. Then he looks at him imploringly, begging for permission to dig in. Cyril picks up his own fork, and Hanna decides that's good enough. He cuts into the pancakes and stabs through all three layers, shoving it all into his mouth.

They chat to each other about the crappy B-movie they watched last night, and what to do about Conrad and Worth always bitching at each other because those two are gonna be in contact quite a lot, and about really cool street performers Hanna saw in New York that actually did the sword swallowing thing. Zion mostly listens, and Hanna mostly talks and smiles. They sit together quietly sometimes too, and it works because they work. They work really, really well and Hanna just realized that this morning when he work up to breakfast and it feels big, like this will change his life forever. Hanna plucks the little raspberry from the top of the half-eaten stack and pops it in his mouth.

The pancakes just happen to be awesome.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompter of this piece honored me with some art! I really love it, it is very special to me.  
> [](http://s923.photobucket.com/user/sugar_magic/media/nomnomnomlove.jpg.html)


End file.
